


Pining at the Fjords

by Daegaer



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-04
Updated: 2010-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Ford are stranded in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pining at the Fjords

"Well at least we know where we are," Ford said, tossing a pebble gloomily into the fjord beneath.

"We're going to die here," Arthur said. He wondered why he didn't feel anything more than a vague sadness. It wasn't like he'd really got home. Home was a very long way away, and he'd never see it again.

"Yes," Ford said. "We're going to die here. No one's going to pick us up, no one's going to drop a handy time machine down beside us, I'll never see my family again, thank Zarquon."

Arthur wondered if it would be kind to mention that that last bit hadn't come out with quite the jaunty humour he thought Ford had probably been aiming for. He decided an embarrassed silence would be the better part of valour. The sun crept down the sky and set. It was very dark and the stars were very bright. Ford ignored it all in favour of slowly tossing all the pebbles he'd spent the afternoon collecting down into the water, stone by single stone. He seemed to have hiccoughs, Arthur thought.

"Ford? Ford, are you all right?"

Ford looked at him with dry, unblinking eyes. "Yeah," he said, casually and calmly. "I'm fine."

"Are you thinking of a way for us to get out of here?"

"No," Ford said. "Were you even listening to me earlier? This planet," he said with deep loathing, "is off all the beaten hitchhiking routes. It'll take two million years for it to develop to the point where it's an unfashionable backwater. We are going to die here, Arthur. Congratulations. You get to die at home."

There was an awkward silence.

"Sorry," Ford muttered.

"Is that Betelgeuse?" Arthur said, taking refuge in a change of subject.

"Yes," Ford said. "You remembered. Well done, Arthur." He hiccoughed.

"Ford?" Arthur said carefully.

"What?"

"Are you crying?"

"_Humans_ cry," Ford said, tossing his last pebble into the sea and standing up. "If you'll excuse me, Arthur, I'm just going to jump off the cliff."

Arthur tackled him. After a brief and energetic tussle, they lay looking up at the stars.

"Sorry," Ford said again. "I usually leave the really stupid dramatic gestures to Zaphod."

"I won't tell him," Arthur said. "He'll be along shortly, you know. Really annoying people always are." After a moment he realised the odd noise was Ford trying not to giggle. It was a much better sound than the not-crying, and Arthur thought he probably should encourage it. He leaned over and kissed Ford carefully, shifting round as Ford's arms were wound about him tight enough to indicate he wasn't going to be let go for at least two million years.

All in all, Arthur thought later as they lay curled together under his dressing gown and Ford's blazer, he'd done a pretty good job of providing comfort. Ford sighed and looked up at the stars.

"There's Betelgeuse," he said, with no trace of hiccoughs. He turned his gaze back to Arthur, calm and unblinking. "How do you like being an interstellar hitchhiker, Arthur?" he asked.

"The company's good," Arthur said, and was terribly, terribly glad when Ford gave him more of his more insane grins.

"Yeah," Ford said. "It is. Well, let's get some sleep, Arthur. I want to be in top form tomorrow for when I start planning on how we'll get out of here. There's a _really_ good restaurant I want to take you to. You wouldn't _believe_ the good food they just throw out in the rubbish."

"I can't wait," Arthur said, tightening his arms round Ford.

He meant it too.


End file.
